


awake the stars (they’re all around you)

by AceMoppet



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Asexual Katsuki Yuuri, BAMF Katsuki Yuuri, Fluff, Genderfluid Katsuki Yuuri, Happy Ending, M/M, Miscommunication, Other, Pining, Slight Violence, Space AU, YOI Home Zine 2019: Dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 14:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18671734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceMoppet/pseuds/AceMoppet
Summary: ‘Yuuri dreamed of the stars as a child.’Or: Katsuki Yuuri finds themself in space, working side-by-side with Victor. Selfies are taken, battles are fought, kisses are shared, and somewhere along the way, they find themself a home as well.





	awake the stars (they’re all around you)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This is AceMoppet. I’m so happy to be able to share my YOU Home Zine fic with you all!
> 
> I had the time of my life working with everyone on the Home Zine. Thank you to mods Tatiana, Alli, Magu, Abby, Cary, and Erin for all their hard work, and thank you to my partner Purin: go check their art out at cutiepurin.tumblr.com!
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you liked it!

Sometimes, Yuuri wonders if his sole purpose in this universe is to long for things he’ll never be worthy of.

 

He stares at the spaceship in front of him; it’s huge, about half a mile long if Yuuri remembers correctly, and though Yuuri stands a good distance away from the ship, he still has to tilt his head to see where it ends at the very top. It seems like it’s touching the sky, red and gold standing out in the blue.

 

“Hi there! You must be the new Vice Captain!” Yuuri whirls around and immediately chokes on his tied tongue.

 

There stands his idol, his crush, his hero, the man who seems to be more star than human: Victor Nikiforov.

 

“H-Hi,” he says, acutely aware of his undoubtedly awkward staring, “I-I’m Yuuri. Katsuki.” He thrusts out his hand and thanks every holy entity he knows that he has his gloves on; if he didn’t, Victor would be able to tell he’s sweating literal rivers from his palms.

 

Victor looks at him, gaze indiscernible under his bangs. Then he smiles, slow like a beautiful sunset and takes Yuuri’s hand, shaking it firmly.

 

“Pleased to work with you Yuuri. I’m your Captain, Victor Nikiforov. Let’s have a great adventure, yes?”

 

Yuuri doesn’t know why he’s here after his sham of a presentation last December and subsequent failure of a career; all he knows is that Victor Nikiforov is standing in front of him, and that his handshake is warm like a summer night’s breeze. “Yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri dreamed of the stars as a child. He dreamed of flying so close to them that he could reach out a hand and take one from its black perch before placing it in his mouth, tasting starlight on his tongue. He thinks he dreamt that they tasted like wasabi-flavored Ramune, fizzy and spicy and tingling in his mouth.

 

He knows now that stars are made of gas too hot to be touched, let alone to be tasted by some little dreaming child. Still, he dreams. He wonders.

 

 

* * *

 

 

His first day on ship, he gets bowled over by a large dog.

 

Specifically, Victor’s large dog.

 

He’d just finished up the last of his paperwork and is about to turn it in to Victor when he suddenly finds himself on his back, face wet and getting wetter by the second, the scent of dog breath clinging to his nose.

 

“Makka!” He hears a person running, their boots _clopping_ quickly on the tile. They stop, and suddenly fifty pounds of doggo is being lifted from his lap. He panics and hugs Makkachin quickly, tugging her away from the faceless kidnapper.

 

“Yuuri? It’s ok, you can give her to me! I’m so sorry she knocked you over.”

 

...Who turns out to be his captain. Fuck. Ok, he can still salvage this if he gives Makkachin back-

 

“No,” —aaaand apparently his brain’s a gremlin. So this situation is truly unsalvageable. Fuck.

 

Over the good doggo’s perfectly massive head of fluff, he sees his captain blink, surprised. “I’m sorry?”

 

“You should be,” Yuuri says, internally screaming at his audacity. “You never told me you were bringing Makkachin along.”

 

Yuuri sees Victor freeze. “You know who Makkachin is?” he asks, frowning lightly. “I’m pretty sure I never told you about her…”

 

“I uh…” Yuuri buries his blushing face into Makkachin’s fur, and honestly? Bless Makkachin for licking his face at a time like this. “I saw her on your Instagram…”

 

Victor blinks. “You follow me on Instagram?”

 

Yuuri shrinks further into Makkachin. “N-No…”

 

A beat of silence passed between them before Victor sighs and crouches down, whipping out his phone in a practiced motion. “What’s your Instagram?”

 

“I—uh—“

 

“Never mind, I found it! Ooo,” Victor says, delighted, “Yuuri, you never told me you take such wonderful pictures!”

 

Yuuri does take wonderful pictures. He has just enough confidence in himself to admit this much. It’s his go-to relaxing method: whenever his mind is too keyed up but his body is too tired, Yuuri likes to take pictures of the world around him and edit the fuck out of them, playing around with filters and colors. Sometimes, he even posts them online.

 

“Why aren’t there any of you though?”

 

Yuuri blinks. “Why would there be any of me?”

 

“... We’ll work on that. For now, give me your phone.”

 

Yuuri’s too busy wondering about what exactly is it that Victor wants to work on to think through the dangers of handing over his phone to Victor. His panic comes seconds too late, as Victor is already scrolling through his phone to find the Instagram app. Yuuri tries to lean over casually, just to peek and see if he’s changed his Victor background—he has thank God.

 

Though he wonders if it’s any better to have a Portal meme as his background. Why’d he even choose that meme…

 

Oh right. Phichit did it, all the while cackling and putting out an order for a t-shirt with that on it.

 

“It’s perfect Yuuri,” he’d said between laughs, “you can wear it at Pride this year!”

 

Yeah, he’s not sure how that’s gonna work since he’s technically going to be in actual fucking _space_ this year… but hey. Why not.

 

“Aaaand done!” Yuuri gets jerked back to the moment, where a beaming Victor hands over his phone with the Instagram app open to a page full of pictures of Victor he’d never seen before.

 

“This is my finsta,” Victor says, “Now you can see all of my pictures of Makkachin.” He winks and tilts his head, hair falling over his closed eye. “And some of me.”

 

“I uh, th-thank you—“

 

“No problem! Also, I’m following you too! Make sure to upload some selfies soon, ok?”

 

Unlikely. Yuuri’s _never_ posting a selfie on Instagram ever. Ever ever. (He sucks at selfies. Even Phichit had washed his hands of him, bemoaning the fact that he couldn’t teach him “the sacred art of selfie-taking.” Yuuri had just shrugged and snapped another photo of the sunset.)

 

He can’t tell this to Victor though, so he just nods mutely, trying not to pass out at the sheer brilliance of Victor’s smile.

 

“Great! In fact, let’s take a selfie right now! Get you started and all.”

 

Never mind. Apparently he’s taking a selfie. With Victor Nikiforov.

 

How is this his life again?

 

 _Phichit will be pleased,_ he thinks dazedly as Victor takes his phone again and pulls him close.

 

“Smile!” he says. Yuuri smiles. Maybe. Probably not.

 

(He smiled. That afternoon, two Instagram accounts upload the same photo. It’s of one Victor Nikiforov smiling like he can conquer the universe with a flip of his hair. To his right, there’s one Katsuki Yuuri, smiling in obvious disbelief, cheeks shiny with dog drool and pink with happiness. And in the middle is one Makkachin Nikiforov, tongue wagging out of her mouth in greeting.

 

Under Victor’s account, the caption reads, “This day, we emBARK on a new adventure to the edges of the universe!” He’s tagged an account: katsuki-y.

 

The same picture is uploaded to that account later with very little fanfare. The caption is empty except for a brief #nofilter.)

 

* * *

 

 

By the end of their first month in space, Yuuri has done three major things.

 

  1. They’ve beaten the record for Mario Kart (Cadet Plisetsky still snarls at them when they pass by).
  2. They’ve gotten lost on two different planets (Makkachin fetched them the first time, guiding them back through the city they’d landed in for supplies with a silly, sloppy smile. The second time had been far more severe; they’d gotten lost on an uninhabited planet, having gotten distracted by their work, and had gotten so far off course it took a rescue team to get them back.)
  3. They’ve stopped talking to Victor.



 

Now, they wouldn’t say they’re _avoiding_ Victor, per se, but…

 

“Yuuri,” Phichit sighs over Space-Skype, “that’s _exactly_ what you’re doing.”

 

Yuuri shrinks inwards, pulling their legs up. “It’s just… I fucked up. He saw me fuck up. He must be wondering why he even took me in—”

 

“Maybe,” Phichit says, hamster crawling over his shoulder, “you should talk to him. See how he feels.”

 

“Okay but consider,” Yuuri says, “I _don’t_ talk to him, and then one day he fires me because I’ve fucked up too much.”

 

“ _Yuuri.”_ Phichit sits up now, carefully placing his hamster onto his bed. “You didn’t fuck up. You made _one_ mistake. Besides, you discovered a whole new _ecosystem._ I’d say that’s the opposite of fucking up.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I won’t fuck up in the future! That doesn’t mean I haven’t fucked up _before!_ ”

 

“Of course it doesn’t, but Yuuri, you’re human, you’re allowed a fuck up or two. What you need to do now though is talk to Victor.”

 

Yuuri whines. “I don’t want toooooo.”

 

“Do it or I’ll send your entire Victor collection to him. One. By. One.”

 

Yuuri gasps. “You wouldn’t!”

 

Phichit looks around the room with the fakest smile Yuuri’s ever seen in their entire life. “Wow!” he exclaims, “There sure is a lot in here! I wonder if Victor would like the one from 3011—”

 

“Okay fine!” Yuuri bursts, “I’ll do it.”

 

“Yay!” Phichit bounces a bit, clapping his hands together.

 

“Ugh.”

 

“Aw, it’ll be ok Yuuri!”

 

_“Ugh.”_

 

* * *

 

 

“Um, V-Victor?”

 

Victor stops typing. “Yes Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri shivers. It’s not that Victor’s tone is cold, per se, but it’s certainly not as warm as it was before Yuuri started avoiding him. For a moment, Yuuri wonders if they should leave;  Victor hasn’t even turned around for God’s sake—

 

—But no. Yuuri is here, and they’re going to see this through. Victor deserves that much.

 

“C-Can we talk?”

 

Silence. A sigh. Then…

 

Victor turns around. “Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the chair next to him.

 

Yuuri sits down gingerly. “Um…”

 

Moments pass. Then finally…

 

“Do you want to go to the deck?”

 

Yuuri’s head snaps up. “But won’t there be people-”

 

“Not the main deck,” Victor says, “the private deck.”

 

Yuuri never knew there was a private deck. Yuuri’s never even heard of a private deck. Still…

 

“...Ok.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t even know where to start.” They’re sitting on the private deck. There’s no one here except them as they stare out the large glass windows, the vastness of space so close to their faces they can almost breathe it in.

 

“When I’d just started out as Captain, I almost crashed my ship in the first week.”

 

Yuuri swivels around to see Victor. He’s casually leaning back against the wall, but the tenseness in his jaw belies his discomfort. “What happened?”

 

Victor shrugs. “Some will tell you I got too cocky.”

 

“I don’t care about them,” Yuuri says. Victor turns to meet their gaze, and _oh._ He’s wide-eyed and pink-faced and _so damn pretty._ Yuuri swallows. “I don’t. I want to know what happened. From you.”

 

Victor stares at them, and just as Yuuri is about to backtrack, he smiles, sudden and soft. “Wow,” he whispers, “Katsuki Yuuri, you never cease to surprise me.”

 

Yuuri splutters, blushing. “I—wha—”

 

Victor chuckles and leans back, sighing. Silence falls over them until Victor breathes in, shuddery and thin, and says, “I wasn’t ready.”

 

He stops and glances over at Yuuri, as if to gauge their reaction. Yuuri, for their part, tries to keep their face as open and as encouraging as possible. It’s difficult, especially since they know they have a bad case of Resting Bitch face, but it seems to work, because Victor forges ahead.

 

“They’d built a new ship. I’d graduated top of my class, and so they asked me to be the first one to fly it. I accepted of course.”

 

Victor stares off into the distance, as if the memories were sprawled across the cold stars beyond the window panes. “They didn’t tell me that the ship used new technology. Technology I’d never even dreamt of, let alone used. That doesn’t excuse me, of course,” he rushes on to say, gaze flickering over to Yuuri, who’s still trying their best to show that they’re listening, “I should have questioned them. But I didn’t.”

 

The soft “t” of the last word echoes throughout the deck. Slowly, Yuuri inches closer, just enough that they can feel Victor’s body heat radiating off of him. Victor takes in a shaky breath and continues in a clipped, almost clinical tone.

 

“I was put in charge of a small crew, five people in total. They were all cadets in their final year of training: very bright, very motivated. At first, the flight went normally. There was some confusion between a couple of the buttons, but it was easily resolved. And then…”

 

Yuuri notices how Victor’s eyes glaze over as he trails off. _Oh,_ they think, _he’s getting lost in his head._

 

To bring him out, Yuuri softly prompts, “And then?”

 

Immediately, the cloud lifts, and Victor’s eyes are on them, sharp and blue and glittering with starlight. “...And then we flew into some turbulence. It should have been easily fixed, but…”

 

And Yuuri can guess how it goes from there. With almost no knowledge of how to work the ship, Victor and his crew had started plummeting to Earth.

 

“I somehow figured out what to do. I-I still don’t know how.”

 

“But you did,” Yuuri whispers.

 

Victor swallows. “Yes.”

 

Silence falls over them once more as they’re lost to their vulnerabilities. Victor, who’s just finally unburdened himself, and Yuuri, who’s just about to.

 

“I’m,” Yuuri starts, then shakes their head, clenching their fingers into their thighs as they look down. “I’m not some great person. I-I avoided you because I didn’t want you to see my shortcomings. But—!”

 

Yuuri surges up, standing over a kneeling, wide-eyed Victor. Their face flushes, but their next words are determined, almost forceful. “I won’t do that anymore! It’s not fair of me to hide from you when you’ve been so, so…”

 

“Charming?” Victor says, lips twitching upward into a teasing smile.

 

Yuuri’s face goes red hot. Still, they say, “So _yourself_ with me. I think, if you can be yourself with me, then I can, um, I can be myself with you!”

 

Victor’s eyes widen, mouth slightly parted in shock. Like this, starlight in his hair and eyes, he looks more beautiful than Yuuri could ever imagine. Then his face softens into a small smile, and oh. _Oh._ Yuuri feels their stomach settle, the ever-present butterflies that take up residence in there falling asleep.

 

“Ok,” Victor says, standing up. He offers a hand to Yuuri, who takes it with their own, slightly trembly hand. “Then let’s be ourselves to each other. Yuuri and Victor.”

 

Yuuri can’t restrain the goofy, shy smile that takes over their face at that. “Victor and Yuuri.”

 

* * *

 

 

Slowly, Victor and Yuuri grow closer. Days blur into weeks into months like the lines between them blur into almost nothingness. It means that Yuuri gets to see the Victor who snorts when he laughs too hard, who always cries at sad dog commercials, who is so strong and fragile at the same time that it makes Yuuri’s heart ache to be near him.

 

But it also means that Victor gets to see the Yuuri who eats too much ice cream, who dances to ballet and hip hop alike when they’re alone, who gets anxious and doubts so, _so much_. And it’s terrifying: Yuuri’s never been this vulnerable around someone, never showed anyone what they’ve shown Victor. But it’s… freeing, almost, to let Victor see their shortcomings and accept them anyways. It feels so easy and comfortable like...

 

Yuuri knows they love Victor. They don’t know when it happened, but the realization hits them one day when they’re eating in the cafeteria. They’re thinking about Victor, and mid-chew, they realize.

 

 _Oh God,_ they panic, _I’m in love with him._

 

Then they see Victor’s goofy smile as he walks into the cafeteria and waves at them, and they swallow, and settle.

 

 _Oh God,_ they sigh mentally, fond, _I’m in love with him._

 

And that’s that. For one earth-shaking moment, it seems like the house of cards that is Yuuri’s mental state on an average day is going to fall down. And then the moment passes, and Yuuri breathes easy, safe. Because it’s Victor, silly, sweet, sincere Victor, who laughs and cries and is so, _so_ beautifully human—

 

Yuuri loves him.

 

And, as they see Victor, how he always touches them, how his eyes dart to theirs whenever they’re in the room, how their name sounds like prayer and a cry of joy falling from his lips… well, Yuuri starts to believe that maybe, just maybe, Victor loves them too.

 

Of course, that’s when the bomb drops.

 

* * *

 

 

“V-Victor?”

 

“Yes Yuuri?”

 

“What are these?”

 

“...They’re pictures from last year’s SPACE banquet.”

 

“... I-I need to go.”

 

“Wait, Yuuri no—“

 

_SLAM!_

 

“Yuuri!”

 

* * *

 

 

The day after Yuuri learns he made a drunk fool of himself back in December, the ship is attacked by pirates.

 

Yuuri’s just coming out of the lab when he hears the alarm.

 

 _Victor,_ he thinks as his ears ring with noise and silence, alarmed and numbed at the same time.

 

“Victor,” he breathes as he runs to the part of the ship he’d been avoiding all morning, runs to Victor.

 

“Victor!” he screams as he enters, just in time to catch the pirate who’d tackled Victor to the ground off-guard. He screams again, wordless and desperate, as he takes the laser-gun from his belt and shoots the pirate in the side.

 

The pirate falls away with an agonized cry, but Yuuri doesn’t notice as he runs to Victor, dropping to his knees by his side.

 

“Victor,” he pants, eyes widening as he sees the cuts on Victor’s chest, “Victor, Victor, Victor—”

 

“Yuuri,” Victor rasps, coughing, thumb coming up to stroke over Yuuri’s cheek. Then his eyes widen and he screams. “Yuuri!”

 

Yuuri spins around and grabs the pirate’s sword seconds before he’s run through. He cries out as the blade slices through the skin of his palms like butter. Still, he doesn’t let go.

 

Seconds of pain pass like years as they stand at a stalemate. Then…

 

“Fuck!”

 

The pirate’s grip loosens as he curls over his groin where Victor had kicked him. Before he can even groan in pain, Yuuri yanks his sword away from him and holds it to his throat.

 

“Surrender,” he barks out. The pirate snarls and spits in his face, but Yuuri doesn’t falter. He presses the blade closer. “Surrender,” he whispers, “before I kill you.”

 

Silence, except for the ragged breaths that scrape out of their throats. Then…

 

The pirate closes his eyes and croaks, “I surrender.”

 

Yuuri almost collapses in relief, but he keeps a tight grip on himself. “Good,” he says, still not taking the blade away. It’s only when Victor comes over and handcuffs the pirate that he lets go, hands slippery and shaky.

 

“...We should see where the others are,” Yuuri says, trembling on his feet.

 

Victor looks at his portscreen. “Seems like our crew has taken care of them all. So Vice Captain,” Victor’s eyes meet Yuuri’s before flitting down to his bloody hands, “shall I take you to the medbay?”

 

And Yuuri should be avoiding him after yesterday, after learning that Victor might be in love with a version of him that doesn’t _even exist_ —

 

But he’s tired. He’s so, _so_ tired. So he nods. “After we take this guy to holding.”

 

Victor smiles. “But of course.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I thought I’d lost you,” Victor says after everything is over. He and Yuuri sit in a corner of the medbay, facing each other. “I thought—”

 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmurs, bandaged hand coming up to cover Victor’s. “I just wanted to protect you.”

 

Victor slumps, hair falling over his eye. If Yuuri looks closely, he can see Victor’s lips tremble. “You... “

 

There’s a strange glimmer to Victor’s right eye, and, when Yuuri squints, he can see the same sparkle in his left eye as well. He reaches up to brush Victor’s hair aside, not noticing Victor go rigid.

 

“Yuuri,” he says, deathly quiet. “What are you doing?”

 

Yuuri doesn’t hear the dangerous tone in his voice. “Ah, you’re crying,” he murmurs, utterly fascinated.

 

Victor growls and smacks his hand away. “That’s because I’m angry, _dammit!”_

 

The medbay falls silent. Yuuri’s jolted back to himself, finally remembering that they’re in public.

 

“Maybe we should leave,” Yuuri whispers, hand slowly closing around Victor’s.

 

Victor looks at him then lowers his gaze to their hands. He licks his lips. “Maybe we should.”

 

* * *

 

 

They head to the private deck.

 

Silence and starlight engulfs them as they stare at each other, Yuuri with his bandaged hands and Victor with his gauze-covered chest. Then Yuuri sighs.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Victor blinks. “Why did you avoid me?” he croaks out.

 

Yuuri drops his gaze. “Because,” he whispers.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor pleads. “I need more than that. Please, just let me understand! What did I do wrong?”

 

Yuuri’s eyes snap back to Victor’s at the anguish in his voice. “N-Nothing,” he stutters, “You did nothing wrong Victor.”

 

“Then _why_ are you avoiding me?”

 

The last word echoes throughout the room, the emotional crack in the middle splintering out into a fault line in the vast room. And that settles it.

 

Yuuri knows that answering Victor’s question truthfully is going to break him, open and pathetic. But he can’t stand to hear the pain in Victor’s voice, can’t stand to hear him beg. So he takes a shaky breath and says, “I thought you liked banquet me more.”

 

Silence. “...What?”

 

Yuuri gulps, wincing as his hands instinctively curl into nervous fists. He forces them to relax and says. “You, uh, you had all those pictures on your phone and I just… I-I guess I thought you were happier with drunk me. And,” Yuuri swallows, a lump painfully sticking in his throat, “I’m not _him.”_

 

“Oh _Yuuri,”_ Victor sighs, hands reaching out, “can I hug you?”

 

Slowly, Yuuri nods. With another sigh, Victor wraps him up in his arms and buries his face in his hair. Yuuri shivers, suddenly so warm and comfortable and _safe_ that he feels like he could fall asleep right here, head tucked under Victor’s neck, breathing in his lovely scent, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor whispers, “please listen to me. You, Katsuki Yuuri, are the most beautiful person I know. And no, I don’t mean drunk you, though they are pretty charming. I mean _you,_ you beautiful, stubborn, kind, _perfect_ —”

 

“I’m not perfect,” Yuuri interrupts, tightening his arms around Victor.

 

“You are to me.” Victor’s hands come up to card through Yuuri’s hair, and as Yuuri settles into him with a content sigh, he feels Victor smile. “You’re perfect Yuuri. I love you.”

 

And the sheer devotion, the sheer _love_ in Victor’s voice makes his eyes spill over with tears, and he sobs. “Victor,” he cries, “Victor, Victor, Victor—”

 

“I’m right here, Yuuri,” Victor murmurs. Slowly, they sink to the ground, arms wrapped around each other. Yuuri falls apart in Victor’s arms, feeling so safe and certain and seen that it just makes him cry harder in relief.

 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri says, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

 

“Shhh Yuuri,” Victor whispers, “shhh.”

 

They rock back and forth until Yuuri’s sobs die into sniffles and then die out completely. “Thank you,” Yuuri rasps, arms tightening around Victor in gratitude.

 

Victor leans back to wipe away some stray tears that still linger on Yuuri’s cheeks. “You’re welcome.”

 

Yuuri blushes. “I, um, I love you too, you know?”

 

And Yuuri thought Victor would chuckle, not to tease him, but just in amusement. Instead, he sucks in a sharp breath, and his eyes go wide and dark as he thumbs at Yuuri’s lower lip.

 

“Yuuri,” he whispers, shaky and borderline desperate, “Yuuri, can I kiss you?”

 

Yuuri nods, and Victor leans in and kisses him.

 

Yuuri sinks. _Oh,_ he thinks, lips and hands seeking, wanting, longing for more of Victor. _So_ **_this_ ** _is what a star tastes like._

 

It tastes like sweat, one of Victor’s infernal breath mints, and Victor. Sharp salt, even sharper mint, and something soft: Victor.

 

He ignores the sting in his hands, bringing them up to tug at Victor’s hair, pulling him in closer and closer. The kiss escalates, sending them swirling higher, higher, _higher_ —

 

—and then Victor pulls back, gasping for breath. Yuuri follows him with a whimper, wanting Victor’s lips back on his.

 

“W-wait, Yuuri,” Victor pants, chuckling, “Please _dorogoy,_ I need some air.”

 

Yuuri’s face goes hot. “S-Sorry!”

 

Victor chuckles again. “Ah, it’s no problem.” His forehead comes down to rest against Yuuri’s. This close, Yuuri can see every little fleck of color in his blue eyes, the color of glaciers and sky.

 

“Victor,” he says, savoring the name on his tongue. “Victor, Victor, Victor…”

 

Victor huffs, half-amused, half-fond. “Yes, Yuuri?”

 

For so long, Yuuri’s wondered. About the stars, about space. About whether he belongs here, there, anywhere really. He’s yearned so long for something that his insides ache.

 

But here, nose-to-nose with Victor, staring into his eyes and knowing Victor is staring back, knowing Victor sees all of Yuuri and likes him, _loves_ him, he feels the ache start to ease. He feels settled, feels truly, entirely at home.

 

 _Tadaima,_ his mind whispers, as he pulls his love, his home, back in for another kiss.

 

* * *

 

 

The next year, they go to Pride together. Yuuri goes in the shirt Phichit had somehow kept for two years...

 

(“‘The cake might be a lie,’” Victor reads, “‘but my asexuality is not?’” He looks at Yuuri, confused. “I don’t get it.”

 

Yuuri just laughs and pulls him close. “We’ll play it when we get back to the ship,” he whispers before he kisses Victor.)

 

And Victor goes in a truly awful t-shirt with a rainbow clock on it.

 

(“It’s time to be gay?” Yuuri laughs, delighted.

 

“Of course _lyubov moya_ ,” Victor smirks, “after all, it’s Mon- _gay,_ Tues- _gay,_ Wednes- _gay_ —”

 

Yuuri groans and drops his head onto the counter with a loud _thunk._ “ _Oh my god Vitya.”_

 

Victor laughs and hugs him from behind, resting his head on the line of Yuuri’s shoulder. “You love me anyway,” he teases.

 

Yuuri can’t help but smile. “I do.”)

 

They throw themselves into the parade, surrounded by friends and friendly strangers. Glitter and paint get smeared all over faces, hands, necks, and even hair, much to Victor’s dismay. Secretly, Yuuri thinks the glitter suits his husband’s sparkly personality. He won’t tell that to Victor though, who’s busy pouting over the state of his hair.

 

(God he loves his husband.)

 

They dance and laugh and kiss until their feet, stomachs, and lips ache. The day passes by in a whirlwind of color and joy.

 

Soon, they stumble home. They shower, giggling as glitter and paint swirl down the drain, dry themselves off, and fall into bed, arms wrapped around each other.

 

The laughter dies down into quiet smiles and soft eyes seeking the other in love, in adoration. Eventually, their breaths slow and eyes droop closed. Yuuri gathers Victor close and presses his face into Victor’s hair. Nose filled with the scent of Victor’s shampoo, ears filled with the sound of Victor’s soft breathing, and heart filled with so, so much love for the man in his arms, Yuuri drifts off to sleep.

  



End file.
